LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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FROM HEART TO HEART. 



FROM HEART TO HEART. 



/ 



BY 

KATE VANNAH, 

AUTHOR OF "VERSES." 



There are four or Jive who hi passing this place 

While they live will name me yet ; 
And when I am gone will think on my face, 

And feel a kind of regret. 

Jean Ingelow. 



WI TH FOR TRAIT. 




/ 

EOST( 

J. G. CUPPLES COMPANY, 
250 Boylston Street. 



A 37 



Copyright, 1893. 
Bv Kate Vannah. 



All rights reserved. 



Dedicated to 

CHARLOTTE FREDRIKA KENNAN. 

How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use ? 

A hope, to sing by gladly ? or a fine, 
Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse ? 

A shade, in which to sing — of palm, or pine ? 
A grave, on which to rest from singing ? Choose. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



CONTENTS 



Sonnet? . 

Fame 

Betrothed 

First Love 

Last Love 

By the Sea 

Compensated 

Hurt 

Ox the Chasm's Brink 

A Jacqueminot 

With Thee Again . 

In a Cathedral 



PAGE. 

I 

■ 3 
4 

5 
6 

7 
8 

9 

10 

1 1 

12 
!3 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



Wedded 

Helen Hunt Jackson, Harriet Beecher Stowe, 



A Snowless December Day ai 


1 the North 




Good Friday . 


• 




Reconciled 


• 
















Fronting Eternity 


• 




" The Third the Charm is " 


. 




Wedded Lovers 


. 










Love's Miracle 


. 




In the Lonely Night 


• 
















His Confession 


• 










Looking Back 


. 











PAGE. 



15 

l6 

18 

J 9 

20 

21 

22 

23 
24 

2 5 
26 

27 

28 

29 

3° 
31 
3* 



CONTEXTS. 



vu 



Full Recognition 

A Flower's Name 
To George Eliot 
Forbidding 
A Letter 
Which ? . 
Your Birthday 
Night by the Sea 
Pawns : A Ring 

An Opera-Cloak 
A Little Letter 
Sonnet 
Sonnet 
forgiyeness 
Estranged 
A June Day in Xoyember 
With Violets 
A Lament 
After 
A White Rose 



34 

55 
36 

37 
38 

39 
40 

41 
42 
43 

44 
*5 
46 

47 
49 

5 2 

56 
53 



viii 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 


Good-By 


• 




. 60 


Her Last Wish 


• 




. 62 


Sympathy 


. 




. . 67 


Disappointment 


• • 




69 


A Lullaby 


. 




• 71 


Song 


• 




72 


My Lovers 


• 




. 74 


Her Expiation 


• 




• 77 


Waste 


• 




. . 78 


A Prayer 


• 




• 79 


Compensation 


• 




. 80 


In Meditation 


• 


. 


. 82 


The Looking-Gl. 


ASSES 


. 


■ • 83 


To Thee 


• • < 


• 


. . 84 


Her Voice 


• 


• • a 


. 86 


Reyond Reach 


. 


• 


. . 87 


An Invalid 


. 


• • 


. 88 


A Modern Philosopher 




. . 89 


Indian Summer 


• 


• 


. 90 


Quatrains 


. 


. 


• 9 2 



CONTENTS. 



IX 



The Surface and the Depths 
u Once, and Only Once, and for One Only *' 
Inspiration ...-••• 
A Man's Last Cry from the Verge 

Le Printemps 

Pleading 

Prescience 

At the End of Exile 

Heart's Own . 

Repletion 

Relinquishment 

Too Late 

Good-Night 



l'AC.E. 

9 + 

95 

95 
96 

98 

99 
100 

1 ci 

102 
104 

i°5 
106 

107 



FROM H EART TO HEART. 



SOXXETS. 



i. 



" Can I make white enough my thought for thee, 
Or wash mv words in liarht ? "' 



Love, lower thine eves. Thev are too reverent. Sink 
Me to the lowest level thou can'st find 
In thy deep nature. That will seem more kind 

To both. Some day thou'lt thank me. Learn to think 

Of me a beggar, fit not e'en to drink 

The love upon thy lips. Thou art so blind 
To his unworthiness whom thou dost bind 

Each hour closer by some golden link 

Forged in thy woman's nature. Rather learn 
To look down on me as in babyhood 

1 



SONNETS. 

My mother looked upon me ; all a-yearn, 

And prayerful that I might grow noble, good. 

Sometimes e'en she, whose body and soul gave strength 
to me, 

Now leans on him whose steps she watched so tremu- 
lously. 



(*) 



II. 

FAME. 

R. B. and E. B. B. 

" There dwelt he happy ; there that minstrel queen. 
Who shared his poet crown, but gladdened more 
To hold, unshared, her poet's manly heart." 

Aubrey De Vere. 

My heart's Beloved ! To-night they talked of Fame. 

One cried, with gaze on me — " Say what it means ; 

For when thou singest a whole world loving leans 
To list thy heart's pulse in thy verse. No blame 
Can touch thee now. Who would not change the name 
Of king for thine ? " 

I was 'mid quiet scenes 
Alone with thee, from whom my man's heart gleans 

Perpetual inspiration. O'er me came 
A sudden shyness 'neath their waiting eyes, 

And I was dumb. 

I have come home — to thee. 
I kneel beside thy couch while my soul cries 

For gladness to be here : " Enough for me 
That one heart for my coming ever longs, 
That one low, tender voice sings my poor song 

(3) 



III. 
BETROTHED. 

" This new joy — half pain." 

I bear my dear joy with unquiet heart 

In these first hours, Beloved. Give me space 
To still these leaping pulses — hide my face 
Until my lips be firmer. How I start 
And flush from hand to brow, and swiftly dart 
A frightened glance around, if from thy place 
Thou look'st my way, or, with that flexile grace 
None other hath, thou risest to depart, 
To leave me lonelier in a crowded room 
Than hunted exile 'mid the forest's gloom. 
It is too soon to realize thou art mine — 
Though I so long, Beloved, have been thine. 
Last night an envied rose lay on thy breast 
Where soon, so soon, my happy head may rest. 

(4) 



IV. 

FIRST LOVE. 

" For God in cursing gives us better gifts 
Than men in benediction." 

Aurora Leigh. 

A human friend was granted unto me, 

And I, bewildered by my sweet, strange love, 
With eyes on earth, forgot that from above 

My blessing came. Blinded, I would not see 

God's image in my friend. Each came to be 
The other's god. Nor future, nor the past 
We heeded. We forgot that death came last. 

Men call this Love : 'tis but idolatry. 

My lover looked within my eyes and swore, 

" Xo power on earth, nor yet in heaven should take 

My love from him. If I at first the shore 
Of dread eternity should gain, he'd break 

God's law, and take his life to share my fate." 

One heard, Who mercifully changed our love to hate. 

(5) 



V. 

LAST LOVE. 

-' I take you, and thank God ! " 

R. B. 

Lo ! here I stand all trembling and dismayed 

Within the still, sweet garden of thy heart. 
O Love ! all is so white, I feel afraid 

To stir, or speak, or breathe. Xo more to part 
In life or death. ... I dare to lift my eyes, 

And feast them on the fragrant flowers here. 
Pure as thou art, within me wakes surprise 

That in this hour immortal should appear 
Xo vivid blooms ; though blushes come and go 

Upon thy face, — while, 'neath thy half-closed lids, 
Flash changing lights, — the red lips tremble so ; 

Fain thou would'st speak, yet sweet confusion bids 
Thy voice be silent. . . God ! this is the goal 
Next heaven. Let me not cast Sin's shadow o'er this soul. 

(6) 



VI. 



BY THE SEA. 

Last year I knew naught of thee save thy name, 

Of love my life seemed full as it could hold. 

Not by one word of warning was I told 

Thy royal advent. Life's face looked the same 

As it had looked for years, when swift there came 

Her King. 

Cor Cordium ! how was I to know 
A rich red rose would leap forth from the snow- 
To startle, and to blind me with the flame 
Of its wild beauty ? See, the white gull dips 
Her breast unto the ocean's murmuring lips ; 
And see upon its bosom the great ships : 
They only know the surface of the sea 
Not dreaming of its depths. Love, none knew me- 
I did not know myself 'till I loved thee. 

(7) 



VII. 

COMPENSATED. 

Were God to strike me blind until the day 

My lids unclose to show my trembling soul 

Beneath His Eyes — Beloved, I would say : 

" I was content to stumble to the goal 

Through darkened years, once having seen a face 

That glowed, a lamp eternal, at the end 

Of Life's dark corridor." 

With a like grace, 
Submissive to His will, so would I bend 
My soul in mute acceptance should I miss 
All sense of sound, once having heard a voice 
That fed my spirit's hearing with a bliss 
Perpetual : e'en as the shells rejoice, 
Leagues inland borne, to murmur of the sea 
Whose voice lives in their depths eternally. 

(8) 



VIII. 

HURT. 

Dear God ! The friend whom I love best, to-day — 
(The best of all), such cruel words did say 
That I at first felt all benumbed — then sore, — 
Then hopeless grew my heart lest nevermore 
Its pain should cease. Our day had just begun. 
The earth laughed in Thy light, — when swift, the sun 
Did fail to warm me. 

Oh ! When I am dead 
Will death be colder than the words he said 
In bitterness, in scorn, e'en unbelief 
Of me who loved him ? Stricken mute by Grief 
I stole away. No eyes have seen my face 
Till now. I'm kneeling here to beg the grace 
Of penitence for sins that give Thee pain 
Like this. Christ, let me wound Thee ne'er again ! 

(9) 



IX. 

ON THE CHASM'S BRINK. 

I lie along this rocky bed, and peer 

Into the chasm deep where waters rush 

And rage with hungry roar which God could hush 

With just a thought. 

I cannot even hear 
Thy matchless voice, for all thou art so near ; 
Yet I may have thine eyes, and the soft touch 
Of thy firm hands that mean to me as much 
As others' speech. And in thine eyes so clear 
E'en is enough to satisfy my sight. 

Some one has leaped across to that smooth stone 
Out there — mid-torrent, — scornful he of fright — 
To carve upon its face his name alone : 
Dost thou remember, Love, my daring leap 
To write upon thy heart one name so deep ? 

(10) 



X. 

A JACQUEMINOT. 

I single from rich clusters one great rose 
And give it one long kiss. A thing more fair 
In all the world there is not save the rare 
Rose in thy bosom beating ! 

See, it grows 
Impatient for thine eyes although it knows 
With what a dangerous rival 't must compare. 
Its petals part, its fragrant heart lies bare 
To die in rapture on thine own held close. 
I kiss it now. The pleasance and the pain, 
The ecstasy thy love hath brought to me ; 
The hunger for thy heart to rest again 
On mine through time — yea — through Eternity. 
The loneliness of life because I miss 
Thee, Love — are all concentred in this kiss. 



XI. 

WITH THEE AGAIX. 

" The silence of life more pathetic than death's ! " 

E. B. B. 

Was it then Pride that all this lonely year 

Did hold my lips from any speech with thee ? 

And was it Pride that would not let me see 
That face that I so loved, nor let me hear 
Thy voice that last fell coldly on mine ear? 

(This memory alone is agony). 
Love had so often made me bend my knee 
When blameless for thy pardon ; that a fear 
Which seemed to melt my courage all away, 
Did seize and haunt me, lest thou should'st one day 

Lose thy respect for one less strong than thee. 

So, Dear, we parted. We ! and cruelly. 
Now do I know 'twas Pride did make me wait. 
Not blameless, once again, Dear Heart, I kneel — too late. 

(12) 



XII. 



IN A CATHEDRAL. 



To-night, at sunset hour, I stole away, 

And wandered to the vast Cathedral's door, 
Entering which, I thought : The soiled hand of the poor, 

E'en as the hand of proud patrician, may 
Swing the great doors. Here all may come to pray. 

The beggar's naked feet may tread the floor 
By jeweled robes of king or queen swept o'er. 

Believers, doubters, outcasts — murderers — lay 
Their souls' most deadly secrets open here 

Behind those crimson folds, and know not fear. 

Under the lamp a beggar knelt in prayer. 
The sinking sun looked through a window rare, 
And painted rags in colors of royalty : 
E'en so thy great love glorifieth me ! 

(■3) 



XIII. 

"WEDDED." 

(By Sir Frederic Leighton.) 

Counting the world for love well lost, apart 
From every soul they stand. 

Heart known to heart, 
As yet they feel no need to speak one word. 
Onlv the great Sea's solemn voice is heard 
In war eternal with those massive walls. 
Adown her lifted face the sunlight falls — 
Less blinding than the light in his dear eyes 
She so doth love ; that with delight, surprise, 
And joy too keen, her lover, leonine, 
Shivers to think, " till death — yea ! after — mine." 
His eyes are closed. Her left hand's finger-tips 
Are reverently pressed against his lips 
That move at last. And see ! the woman's life 
Stands still to listen while he breathes, " My wife ! " 

(14) 



XIV. 

HELEN HUNT JACKSON, HARRIET BEECHER 
STOWE, AND JULIA WARD HOWE. 

One in her lonely mountain-grave lies sleeping 
Where silvery waters lausjh through all the vear, 
As if in joyaunce ever to sing near 
Her who so loved them while her soul was weeping 
O'er wrongs whose righting God gave to her keeping. 
Another, with a heart that knew not fear, 
Dealt Slavery's chain a blow so loud and clear, 
That millions heard its music with hearts leaping : 
As millions bless the day she saw the light, 

So millions must lament her when she dies 

The third but lifts her gentle voice, and hies 
The thinking world to wonder at the might 
Of masculine mind close-wed to woman's heart. 
She has her throne above our womankind — apart. 



1885. 



(15) 



XV. 

A SNOWLESS DECEMBER DAY AT THE NORTH. 

Enchanted, here I linger on the hill, 

And look across the river at my feet. 
The king o' the White Heart hath deemed it meet 
Not to assume his ermine robes until 
He bids farewell to Autumn, to him still 

A queen, though crownless ! 

He would fain entreat 
One smile ere burying her in snow and sleet. 
His captive late so fair, he grieves to kill. 

Down in the glen I see a bit of green — 
A fern that would be leal unto the queen. 
Winter meant well, I doubt not, when he blew 
Last night one freezing breath across the river, 
And made a mirror, clear, for her to view 
Her faded face — no worse blow could he give her ! 

(16) 



XVI. 

GOOD FRIDAY. 

(3 °" c ) 

Christ ! see me. hear me in this awful hour ! 
Face-down, upon the altar steps I lie. 
The lamp is out, no living creature nigh. 
Soul-sick at being so long within the power 
Of Sin ; I leap from his embrace to cower 
Here, at Thv wounded feet. 

Oh ! hear my cry — 
" In this, the hour Thou'st died, let me, too, die ! " 
Perfect repentance, only, is my dower. 
Tired of trying to gain omniscience over 
Poor human hearts that chancre from dav to dav : 
Sick of the fickle worldling for a lover — 
Here, at Thv feet, forever let me stav. 
Let my great love like healing ointment cover 
Thy wounds from which my eyes no more shall stray. 

.'7) ' 



XVII. 

RECONCILED. 

In no more fitting place could we have met, 

At no more fitting time, a wailing night. 

We. who for years have shunned each other's sight, 

Who strove to bury Love beyond Regret, 

Who begged of God the power to forget 

Each other's eyes, voice, lips ; — who did so blight 

And bruise each other's hearts with all Pride's might. 

Just the dead body of our friend — warm yet — 
Divides us. . . We could feel each other's breath 
Should one lean low to scan the patient face 
Of her who pleaded so before her death 
For us to be at peace. . . . See, Love ! I place 

My hand near yours 

You clasp, and hold it fast ! 
Such tears as wet her dead face drown our past. 

(iS) 



XVIII. 

TWICE PARTED. 

" And thou, clock, striking the hour's pulses on, 
Chime in the day that ends these parting days ! " 

E. B. B. 

Once, in the storm, we said good-bye. I stayed 
And watched you sail beneath a sullen sky. 
Quivering with pain, I moaned : " Beloved, good-bye ! " 
You could not hear, but you looked long, and laid 
Your hands against your lips and heart. 

Afraid 
I only was whilst parted you might die, 
And not beside me in the same grave lie. 
But God returned you. . . . Not to me. You strayed 
Since then beyond my reach while yet in sight. 
With eyes upon my face you see me not. 
Oh ! had you sunk into the sea that night — 
Then ! when you loved me, ere you had forgot — 
Then ! when of all God's world you loved but me, 
Widowed my life — your love mine for Eternity ! 

(19) 



XIX. 

PRESENTIMENT. 

" Oh, clasp we to our hearts for deathless dower, 
This close-companioned, inarticulate hour ! " 

Dante Rossetti. 

Hold close my trembling hands against thy heart 
Oh, thou, my Life ! whom yearning did compel 
To come again in thrilling voice to tell 

So much of love as poor words may impart. 

And 'gainst mine lay thy face. Until we part 

Let me be near thee. Speak or silent be. 

The love of my whole waiting life to thee 

I give — and would give more. Quick tears do start 

'Mid rapture, e'en to think how cruelly brief 

Is bliss like this — how long the after grief. 

A half year since, that nest now filled with snow 

Brimmed o'er with love and music. 

This will go — ■ 

Our wondrous moment. Close enfold thou me — 

When nests are warm again one heart may frozen be. 

(20) 



XX. 

FRONTING ETERNITY. 

" How could I let thee stray 
Into the vale of death, thy torch unlit, 
And mine ablaze that might have kindled it ? 
Oh, what befell thee on that fearsome way ? 
And oh, what greeting would be thine to me 
Could thy voice reach me from eternity ? " 

K. E. C. 

Oxe whispers : " He will die now, soon." Straightway 

My whole life's volume meets my dying gaze — 

Just for an instant — ere flesh turns to clay. 

Across one page a blinding white light plays 

To show me where I grievously did sin 

Against a woman's soul, as white and pure 

As lilies in God's garden. I to win 

Her heart was not content, and I did lure 

Her soul away from Thee, my God ! from Thee. 

Long years ago that soul went to receive 
Its final judgment. Does she now for me 
Forgiveness plead ? Was she denied reprieve — 
She who repented so ? Is she in heaven ? 
What if at last, through her, I be forgiven ! 

(2!) 



XXI. 

" THE THIRD THE CHARM IS." 

The first day that your letter failed me, Dear, 
I felt surprise, yet said, " She's occupied, 
And, save sweet thoughts, could spare me naught 
bes'ide ; 

To-morrow morn her letter will be here. " 

Morn came, no letter bringing, then a fear 
And — yes — a tear ; yet still I bravely tried 
To look at least as though you had not died ! 

But all that day my eyes were not quite clear 

Another day, the third. " Now surely she 

My anxious heart will pacify to-day, 
And in her tender letter I shall see 

Regret for this unusual delay." 
But no. I knelt and prayed, oppressed by fear, 
And, rising from my knees, beheld you — here ! 

(22) 



XXII. 

WEDDED LOVERS. 

" When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed, 
And love called love." 

Five years to-night, my Life's Own, since thy face 

My glad eyes found, to love as soon as seen. 

But briefly 'tween our spirits stood that screen 
We raise to hide from stranger eves all trace 
Of what most sacred is within that place 

Close-sentineled from curious eyes and keen : 

The soul's still sanctuary, — oft closed e'en 
To those whose presence lends a tender grace 

Unto our daily lives. 

I heard thy voice, 
And trembled to its diapason tone. 

Like very children how did we rejoice 
That first day that we fled the world, alone. 

The joy, ineffable, comes back to me 
I felt when thy dear lips met mine so tenderly. 

(23) 



XXIII. 

DEVOTION. 

Thou who art far from me, Beloved, hear 

My deepest thought. I wish that it might be 
That thou could'st open wide my heart and see 
In one immortal glance, swift, deep, and clear, 
How I own nothing there ; nor smile, nor tear, 
Nor wish, nor thought have separate from thee. 
The yearning years, O Love, are long to me. 
Her little one no mother holds more dear 

Than I my life since thou hast called me thine ; 
Guards not her eyes more faithfully than mine 
Are guarded. Love ! God's angels all might know 
My thoughts by night and day the while I go 
My watchful way, as on my breast were sleeping 
A little child left to my tender keeping. 



(24) 



XXIV. 

LOVES MIRACLE. 

" Our hands would touch for all the mountain-bars." 

E. B. B. 

I have you in the heart of me for aye. 

I hold you here. A thousand leagues away, 

You move through scenes that I shall never know — ■ 
Save that you carry me where'er you go. 

All that delights you sinks into your heart 

Where I await you 'till the rest depart. 
Oh ! mystery of mutual love. I hold 
You fast within my heart. When we enfold 

Each other, Love, some happy hour now far 

Away as gleams to-night the farthest star, 
I shall not have you nearer. 

Yonder stands 

The organ, silent. It but waits my hands 

To wake its voice, and kiss the silence deep — 

So love doth wait your coming, in my heart, asleep. 



XXV. 

IN THE LONELY NIGHT. 

" I say with sobbing breath the old fond prayer."' 

" God bless thee, my Beloved, and good-night " . . 
With thee so far away, more fervently 
E'en than of old I breathe the prayer for thee ; 
More humbly now than when I had the light 
Of actual presence, and the happy right 
To lean and kiss thy face. Then thou to me ; 
While on thy forehead, pure, all reverently 
I traced a sign that gives to weakness might, 
That banishes all evil thoughts, and brings 
The peace of God. Sign of the sufferings 
Immortal, that were Christ's : sign of His cross. 
Dear sign ! that after loneliness and loss, 
We yet shall walk together in God's sight — 
" God bless thee, my Beloved, and good-night ! " 

06) 



XXVI. 

.MUTATION. 

Heigho ! the moods you have been in to-day 
Would put to shame mad March or April weather. 
One moment you would take my breath away, 
Ineffably enchanting me. Together 
We scarce had been an hour bv the Sea 

J 

(As high above it as the eagle's nest ■ 
Hangs o'er men's heads) ; you had tormented me 
A score of times, until my aching breast 
Heaved like the Sea. 

Then seeing what discontent, 
What pain and restlessness you could evoke ; 
With blinding fascination swift you leant 
Above me, low and lower— and you spoke, 
Three words so musically that all sorrow 

Vanished (She speaks) — "I'll bring it back 

to-morrow ! " 

(27) 



XXVI T. 

SELF-CONQUERED. 

Go, if thou wilt, Beloved, far from me, 

What way soever Pleasure beckons thee, 

But make this heart thy refuge still, alway. 

The key is thine — no other's — stray or stay. 

When thou art wearied, in that chamber rest. 

When thou art grieved, and deemest quiet best ; 

When thou art sad, or glad, my tenderness 

Shall shield thy moods of silence. None shall guess 

Thy presence there. Alas ! what breaks my voice ? 

Three times I tried to say : " E'en bring thy choice 

Of one alone whose presence is most sweet, 

And I that friend with gracious word will greet." 

Forgive, Love ! that I faltered . . . . " Yea ! " I cry 

" Bring e'en that friend thou lovest — though I die ! " 

(28) 



XXVTTT. 

SONNET. 

HIS CONFESSION. 

I CANNOT die, and not confess to thee — 
Loved still — how once I shamed Love's loyalty. 
True love is love in truth forever, though 
She craves years to recover from the blow- 
Desertion deals. It was in those first days. 
When Love's too sorely bruised. Love often says 
In her delirium things she could not mean. 
L'pon my knees I prayed (I must not screen 
One fault in this last message), I did pray 
Through many a lonely night, and lonely day, 
That : long and bitter as each hour to me ; 
So long, so hard, each year might be to th 
Now, ever in the lonelv nieht I cry : 
" God ! let me bear her sufferings 'till I die ! " 

(^9) 



XXIX. 

SOXXET. 

CHALLENGED. 

Nay, nay, — thy doubt offends Love's majesty — 

Strikes at the very root of Peace and Joy. 
A dagger in my heart where, yesterday, 

Peace crooned, and sang in bliss, without alloy. 
Look back, adown the dangerful, steep ways 

"We climbed to gain these cool, still, beauteous 
heights. 
E'en with her past unveiled, Love ne'er betrays 

Her chosen One, whom she alone invites 
Unto the highest realms she may attain 

This side of heaven. . . . 

Here, fling my head far back, — 
Thy palm against my forehead — so. Xow strain 

Thy sight its uttermost along the track 
My soul, my heart, my thoughts have coursed for years. 
Be not afraid : Truth, smiling, waits behind these tears. 

(3°) 



XXX. 

LOOKING BACK. 

Far back as Memory's eyes can see to-night, 
Along the path that leads to womanhood, 
They can discern no day so fair and good 

As that on which your face dawned on my sight. 

The added joys of years cannot delight 

My soul as did that hour's. You spoke, and, lo ! 
My heart was satisfied, nor cared to go 

Beyond your reach, — never seemed life so bright. 

I look once more. Far as my blinded eyes 
Can reach, I see no day one-half so drear 
As when I called you, and you could not hear 

For distance and for waves that drowned my cries : 
If you should come, and call me thus in vain, 
Know that my love grew stronger for that pain. 

(31) 



XXXI. 

REFUGE. 

As in a storm, to some sweet chapel, calm, 

I hie from wild winds and the lightning's glare, 
And feel secure while bending there in prayer 

Low at the quiet altar, where no harm 

Can enter in to mar the spirit's balm, 

Where, hiding from the world, I weep, and dare 
My heart and soul beneath Christ's Face to bare, 

Till on their quivering strings Peace plays her psalm ; 
So, friend of mine, when thorns have pierced my 
heart, 

And lava-tides of passion scorch my soul, 
In spirit do I hasten where thou art, 

And, 'neath thy gentle voice, regain control 

Of my wild heart. Ah ! shall the day dawn never 
When I may have thine actual presence ever ? 



(32) 



XXXII. 



FULL RECOGNITION. 



Above my desk there hangs a picture old, 

Whose age precise to no man now is known. 

I only know 'tis greater than my own 
By years ; for, as a little child, I'm told, 
I'd lie for hours and watch the twisted gold 

Of its rich frame. Then, when I'd older grown, 

My interest on the picture dwelt alone, 
Till now, of all my treasures, I do hold 
This picture as the rarest. 

So with thee : 
Though thou wert fair to me that summer day, 

When to a lonely heart thou cam'st to be 
Its blessing ; oh, Dear One, I cannot say 

How broad, how deep my need is of thee now. 

In my life's crown the rarest jewel thou ! 



(33) 



XXXIII. 

A FLOWER'S NAME. 

Down in the tender grasses 'neath my sill, 

Where I lean forth each day to greet the dawn. 
And lean again when light from earth is gone 
To pray for thee ; all of its own sweet will, 
A tiny flower has come, so fair and still, 
And new to me, I've given it thy name. 
So often do I marvel why it came 
The evening air with redolence to fill. 

The first time that I found it blooming there, 
At once I cried, " God answers thus the prayer 
Which every morn and every eve I say 
For my soul's friend, so far, so far away. 
He yields this sign that, after our long pain 
Of separation, we shall meet again." 



(34) 



XXXIV. 

TO GEORGE ELIOT. 

You tell of rapture felt by human hearts 

That wake when comes their hour of mutual love ; 
Your own has caught from the Great Heart above 

A sympathy and love divine. When starts 

The mourner's bitter tear, and when departs 
From the worn way a once all spotless dove, 
God-like, you follow on and give your love, 

Which must avail when fail all other arts. 

Resretfullv we lay vour books aside, 

Feeling as though some glorious symphony 

Which had ennobled life that moment died, 
Whose echo ne'er can die to memory. 

E'en as old masters' music hath defied 
Oblivion, so your words must lasting be ! 
1880 

(35) 



XXXV. 

FOREBODING. 

Give me assurance that your love will stay, 
And be my benediction through the year, 
At whose approach I tremble with a fear, 
A terror, lest its hours should lead away 
One heart from which my own could never stray. 
I'm sad as death to-night, — come closer, Dear,- 
My foolish heart is troubled ; let me hear 
And feel assurance, my sad fears allay. 
How could I face the cold New Year, and know 
I was not confident that you would go 
Far over ways that will be cold and drear 
Ere summer with her roses reappear ? 
I did not mean to doubt. There, now I know, — 
Come ! o'er the New Year's white paths let us go. 

New Year's Eve. 

(36) 



XXXVI. 



A LETTER. 



The words for weary weeks denied my heart, 
When 't last they came, an aching void supplied 
With joy that seemed too great, until it tried 

To fill my eyes with crystal drops that start 

When long-missed hands a kind caress impart 
To one whose soul some tenderness in vain 
Has yearned by night and day to know again, 

In anguish past the reach of mortal art. 

I think if once thou could'st but see my face 
Glow, lit with gladness that your letters bring, 

Then see the crimson tide to joy give place, — 
Deep, quiet joy for such a simple thing 

As seems to thee the letter thou dost trace, — 

Each day thou'dst make the heart that loves thee sing. 

(37) 



XXXVII. 



WHICH ? 



Or I am richer for the sight of thee, 

Which Fortune late, in bounteous mood, bestowed, 
Or I was richer while within abode 

The cherished hope that I thy face might see. 

To think that we would meet was ecstasy ; 
But, oh ! to know we met, to know we trod 
The self-same paths, — that, clasping hands, we rode 
Through purple shades, along nepenthean ways, 

To haunts of peace and tender fantasy, — 

That, drifting with the idly drifting days, 
We looked our souls into each other's eyes, 
And dreamed the blissful dreams of Paradise,— 

All this to know the richer maketh me, 

For what hath been than what I hoped would be. 



(38) 



XXXVIII. 

YOUR BIRTHDAY. 

As soon as I unclosed my eyes to-day, 

I drew my curtains hastily aside — 

Xo one was near to hear me — and I cried, 

" My darling ! " so intensely, though you lay 

Far from my side, a thousand miles away. 

In dreams, you must have turned to me and sighed. 

The glorious sun was rising, and I tried 

To watch him fringe with gold Dawn's robe of gray ; 

I hid his face, as children, with one hand, 

And for a while was able, till he grew 

So powerful he ruled the entire land ; 

And wheresoe'er the king his glances threw, 

A idorv was. A love I thus hid, erst, 

As gloriously on my life hath burst ! 



(39) 



XXXIX. 

NIGHT BY THE SEA. 

Beloved, my Beloved, earth would be 

So sweet that heaven itself would be forgot 
If you and I might linger in this spot, 

Might live and die together by the sea, 

Where we have learned to love so deathlessly ; 
That, whatsoe'er the griefs Fate may allot. 
Not death itself from my glad soul can blot 

Remembrance of the joy you've yielded me. 

That little boat we watched an hour ago 

- From darkness steal out to that silver path 
That seems to lead to heaven, we both do know 

Must pass through midnight shadows, now it hath 
So happy lingered in that light : nor we 
Can heaven have now and in eternity ! 

(40) 



XL. 

PAWNS, 
i. 

A RING. 

A heavy band of gold, within it set 

A diamond, whose every glance betrays 

Perfection, while I, fascinated, gaze. 
Proud princess among jewels ! doth regret 
Ne'er stir thy white heart's depths ? Canst thou forget 

The snowy hand thou'st graced in other days, 

As Night a tear-drop on the lily lays ? 
What tender, tremulous hopes thou didst beget 
In some fair woman's breast ! 

Ah, I believe 
Thy history, if known, would win a tear. 

O'er losing thee, it must be, two hearts grieve ; 
Surely 'twas Poverty who dragged thee here, — 

Estrangement, Pride, nor Death would ever show 
To careless eyes : " My Darling " traced below. 

(41) 



XLI. 

PAWNS. 
n. 

AN OPERA-CLOAK. 

It might have been a queen's, this lovely thing, 
Of purple and soft, creamy satin made. 
The breath of some luxurious beauty swayed 
This down, as white as any angel's wing. 
It may have been while she was suffering, 
And very weary of the part she played, 
Her heart away with her dead lover laid, 
While still she strove to lightly laugh and sing. . . 
I wonder if it ever has belonged 
To one who deemed herself too deeply wronged 
To rise again ? who may have felt a sting 
Beneath this down, because so like the wing 
Of some fair angel, — what she might have been, 
And what she may be now, — for all her sin ? 

(42) 



XLII. 

A LITTLE LETTER. 

Love ! how the lone hours drag when you are far ! 
Life rushes onward so when vou are near ! 
The face of Pleasure now is blanched by Fear 
Since I can never know just how you are. 
Oh ! I should be more grateful that no bar 
More cruel than an ocean parts us, Dear, 
For am I not with you ? and you are here — 
I have you as the evening has her star. 

This is a lonely night, and all the day 
Was lonely, Love ! I tried for your dear sake 
To hide from vou how hard my heart did ache. 
Yet — were you sorrowing I would have you say 
Only the truth — 'twould make my sad heart light. 
God bless you, guide you, guard you. Love — good- 
night. 

(43) 



XLIII. 

SONNET. 

Low leans the lily to the wooing breeze, 

See how she trembles 'neath his warm caress, 
Yet, all unused to love, she strives to please, 

And, if she please, is filled with happiness. 
Far other is the mien of yonder rose, 

Yclad is she with scornful majesty ; 
Oh ! who shall dare his love to her disclose, 

Or haply keep unawed beneath her eye ? 
E'en so 'tis vain to woo that heart of thine, 
E'en so 'tis vain to worship at its shrine, 

Where sits enthroned high thought of things above, 
Abstract, and noting not this verse of mine, 

Whose sober plaint must unavailing prove, 

E'en though it hide thy name as doth my heart thy love. 

(44) 



XLIV. 

SONNET. 

As one who in the anguish of the year 

(When nature stricken lies, and self-confessed) 
Withdraws himself and all his heart's unrest 
Apart from haunts of men, to wander near 
The reedy marge of some unruffled mere, 
And there uplifts his soul in prayerful quest 
Of Peace, whose after-coming makes him blest ; 

So, when emerging from their shades, I see 
The horrid shapes that prey upon my soul, 

On wings of instant thought I fly to thee, 

And in the shelter of thy sympathy 

Grow brave and strong to reassert control : 

Then say, though actual presence be denied, 

What fate shall here our kindred souls divide ? 

(45) 



XLV. 

FORGIVENESS. 

Not of thine own sweet nature could it be 

That thou should'st thus betray me ! Let me think 

Thy dear lips, unaware, did careless drink 

From some spring poisoned by mine enemy ; 

Whilst thou, thy senses dulled by lethargy, 

Dreamed not the draught would straightway make me 

sink 
So deep down in Despair's grave that the link 
'Tween Death and Life were quickly snapped in me. 

With prayer unceasing will I beg of God 
To lift from off thy soul that cruel clod 
The hand of Jealousy did place thereon. 
To me — 'tis death : this massive rock upon 
A heart too stunned and bruised to feel again 
Aught in thy once too tender touch save pain. 

(46) 



ESTRANGED. 



Do you think, dear Love, if we had known 

That, ere another year had flown, 

We should have drifted far apart, 

We who for years claspt heart to heart. 

Do you think we had been more tender ? 

ii. 

Ah ! to think this is your natal day, 
And I so near, yet miles away ! 
Why, I could reach you in one short hour, 
Yet dare not send you even a flower, ■ 
Not even forget-me-nots ! 

in. 

And I used to know your heart so well 
That I could look in your eyes and tell 

(47) 



48 ESTRANGED. 

All that was there ; but now, to-day, 

If we should meet, you would turn away, 

Nor let me see your eyes. 

IV. 

Oh ! if you'd look just once again, 

What should I find there, hate or pain, 

Love or longing, or coldness, Dear, 

Or — how my heart leaps to dream it — a tear 

Calling me back again ? 



A JUNE DAY IN NOVEMBER. 



The wondrous fairness of the day 
Is dying, Sweet, for aye, for aye, — 



ii. 



Dying, and we cannot keep it here 
For all your pleading look or tear. 



in. 



The glory fades from shore and river, 
And we grow still. Your dear lips quiver ; 



IV. 



As many thoughts as there'll be stars 
Are there behind the crimson bars, 

(49) 



5 O A JUNE DAY IX XO I EMBER. 



V. 



Longing for words to set them free 
Ere darkness hides vour face from me. 



VI. 



How strange that June should come again, 
And bring such joy, then leave such pain 



VII. 



Now as she dies, and bleak November 
Creeps back again. I shall remember 

VIII. 

As long as life with me shall stay 
The beauty of this summer day. 

IX. 

I oft shall see as I see now 

The fairness of your low, sweet brow, 



A JUNE DA Y IN NOVEMBER. 51 

X. 

Your soulful eyes, your golden hair, — 
The dying sunlight lingering there, 

XI. 

Making a halo 'round your head, — 
And, oh, your mouth so richly red ! 

XII. 

Your image in the water there 
Is going with the light ; the air 

XIII. 

Is chilly, Sweet ; we cannot stay 
Dreaming forever, though our day 

XIV. 

Was fair, and sad, and sweet — all three — 
To you, my Loved One and to me. 

xv. 

The stars are up, the night comes fast. 
Our day is dead, — forever past ! 



WITH VIOLETS. 

i. 

The violets that I send to you 

Will close their blue eyes on your breast. 

I shall not be there, Sweet, to see, 
Yet do I know my flowers will rest 
Within that chaste, white nest. 

ii. 

little flowers, she'll welcome you 
So tenderly, so warmly ! Go : 

1 know where you will die to-nis;ht, 
But you can never, never know 
The bliss of dying so ! 

in. 
If you could speak ! Yet she will know 

What made your faces wet, although 
I fain would follow you and tell her. 

There, go. and die, yet never know 

To what a heaven you 2:0 ! 



A LAMENT. 

" Sleep sweetly, Tender Heart, in peace." 

Tennyson. 

I. 

Spring again, and fair, calm skies, 

Pearl and blue, 
Yet in vain my aching eyes 

Search for you. 

II. 

From long dreamings wake again 

Spring's sweet flowers, 
In my soul an infinite pain 

Which the hours 

in. 

Xor the years can take away ; 

Only tears, 
Springing at the close of day ; 

When one hears 

(S3) 



54 A LAMENT. 

IV. 

God's voice nearer in the calms 

Twilight brings, 
Losing sight of day's alarms, 

Bitter stings. 

v. 

Spring again ! The second born 

Since that day 
God called you, and left forlorn 

Me for aye. 

VI. 

Were you watching ? Do you know, 

Little One, 
Whose hand brushed away the snow 

(Winter gone) 

VII. 

From your grave a month ago, 

From the cross 
Mutely telling as years go 

Of my loss ? 



./ LAM EXT. 55 

VIII. 

Have you heard me when I've said 

Pravers for you ? 
Have you felt me "when I've laid 

Flowers on you ? 

IX, 

Nevermore shall spring return 

With her flowers, 
That I shall not for you yearn ; 

And when lowers 

x. 

Autumn, with its frosts that kill 

Summer's flowers, 
I shall want my Darling still 

At all hours. 



March 13th, 1879. 



AFTER. 



" Love's too precious to be lost, 
A little grain shall not be spilt." 

In Memoriam. 



I. 



I'm sorry, and I hurried back 

To tell you so," a sweet voice said ; 

But I was wounded then, and pride 
Forbade me e'en to turn my head. 



ii. 



To-night I grieve and pray beside 

Her grave, yet cannot shed a tear ; 
Death parted us ere I could say 
The words which now she cannot hear. 

(56) 



AFTER. 57 

III. 



I know, I know she pardoned rae,- 
She was so gentle with me ever,- 

Yet, all the same, wet, wistful eyes 
Do follow me, and will forever ! 



A WHITE ROSE. 

" I wore this rose at my throat last night." 



The white rose came, nor is it yet quite dead, 
But, oh ! so near. Its dying breath is rife 

With 'wildering fragrance ; though you had not said 
Your lips had touched it, I had known its life 
Was thus prolonged by you. 



ii. 



The rose was faithful, it has brought to me 
The sign of your remembrance from afar 

Before its death. If I might this night see 
The eyes this fair rose charmed, the lips that are 
Quivering to meet my own ! 

(58) 



A WHITE ROSE. 



III. 



59 



But, as I cry out this, the Morn steals near, 
Her blushes tinge the white face of my rose ; 

Is it from Morn's eyes or my own the tear 

That scorches our poor dying rose ? God knows. 
And I, O dearest Heart. 



GOOD-BY. 

i. 

All is still, the 3tars are fading 

From the early morning sky. 
I am kneeling here persuading 

My poor heart that our good-by 
Was not, after all, forever ; 
Distance, days, nor death can sever 
Soul from soul, though I may never 
See thy face again. 

ii. 
I shall pass thy window, Dearest, 

As I take my life's new way ; 
I shall fancy that thou hearest 

All my aching heart would say, 
As I hasten on and leave thee 
Lying there with naught to grieve thee, 
Though this heart would fain believe thee 
Moaning in thy dreams. 

(60) 



GOOD-BY. 6 1 

III. 

No ! I cannot hurry on ; 

Just one moment I must stand 
In the snow there, ere the Dawn 

Takes her rose-light from the land. 
Thou wilt hear my poor heart beating, 
Feel that I am there entreating 
God to guard thee till our meeting ; ■ 
Now I rise and go ! 



HER LAST WISH. 
Camille. 

i. 

Marie Duplessis, a woman, well throughout all Paris 

known. 
Marie Duplessis lies grieving in her sumptuous home 

alone. 

n. 

Save a famous grave-faced surgeon, save one maid whom 

she can trust, 
Xo one stands within that chamber save one visitor 

august. 

in. 

Death has come here ! Death has found her ! Death, the 

only one she fears, 

He has found her now, and horror chills her poor soul as 

he nears. 

(62) 



HER LAST WISH. 63 

IV. 

Now and then in her delirium, meek as any little child, 
She will look up in their faces, and her own seems unde- 
filed, 

v. 

Innocent, and, oh, how lovely ! all her wealth of yellow 

hair 
Falling 'round her as a glory, now no longer as a snare. 



VI. 



Now the carmine lips, that tempted other souls till they 

were lost, 
Only part for moans, not kisses, — restlessly the head is 

tost. 

VII. 

Nothing they suggest desiring, wearily she moans and 
moans ; 

Ah ! that voice, that voice so famous for its rich and well- 
trained tones ! 



64 HER LAST WlSIf. 

VIII. 

Sweet, sweet voice, now so pathetic that the eyes of man 

and maid 
Moisten as they stand and wonder whither now her mind 

has strayed. 

IX. 

Leaning o'er her now, the woman, loyal to her all these 

years, 
Hears her murmur indistinctly, sees her eyelids wet with 

tears. 

x. 

Suddenly the blue eyes open ! Reason has come back 

again, 
And the man of skill, perplexed, her great want to find is 

fain. 

XL 

" Marie Duplessis, what is it ? Xame this hunger of the 

heart, 
For your wish's swift fulfilling I. if need be, will depart. 



HER LAST WISH. 65 

XII. 

" Tell me ! " Slowly turned the great eyes that had lured 

men's souls away 
On the man, — " I want my mother, and she is so far away. 



XIII. 



" Far in one way. I chose rather all these years to give 

no sign 
That I lived, for, oh ! I could not let her white life come 

near mine ! 



XIV. 



" Bring her here before delirium leads my mind away again ; 
Punishment for me, the sinner, will begin to see her pain.'* 

# * # # # # * 



xv. 



Swift into the peaceful country sped a messenger away, 
Long indeed the sufferer deemed it until sunset the third 
day. 

5 



66 HER LAST WISH. 

XVI. 

When within that room, luxurious, poured the sunlight on 

that day, 
Glided in a little figure, — knelt the peasant mother to pray. 



XVII. 



Kissed in the old way the white, face, once, twice, thrice — 

then down beside 
Her poor wanderer knelt the mother, — sobbed, and prayed 

'till Marie died. 



SYMPATHY. 



i. 



Yearneth thy heart for a sweet friend dead, 
Sigheth thy heart for a dear day fled ? 
I pity thee, my friend. 



ii. 



Hast known regret for a word unspoken, 
When a loving heart did await some token ? 
My friend, God comfort thee. 



in. 



Hast spoken ungently to one now gone, 
Hast lain on her grave and grieved alone ? 
I know God heard thy prayer. 

(67) 



68 SYMPATHY. 

IV. 



Hast been harshly judged, misunderstood, 
By one to whom thou'st wished but good ? 
God understood thy heart. 



v. 



Has the friend of thy heart and soul false proved, 
The friend of all the world best loved ? 

Christ pities thee/poor one ! 



DISAPPOINTMENT. 

" My heart and life flowed onward — deathward — 
Through this dream of thee." 

E. B. B. 

I. 

How much I thought of meeting you again ! 

In watching for the joy that hour would bring 
I lost what grace the past year brought to me, 

And, save the lesson, gained not anything. 

ii. 

My heart was warm wrapped in its love for you, 
My memory blind to every face save one ; 

I could not, had I died, more faithful been. 

The hour came and passed, — Love's time is gone. 

in. 

So warm to one, and to all others cold, 
Selfish to all, yet generous unto you ; 

Saving my eyes, voice, lips, as I had sworn, 
Only too proud to prove my love was true. 

(6 9 ) 



70 DISAPPOINTMENT. 

IV. 

Spring, erst so dear, brought violets in vain. 

" Spring will return," I said, and let them fade 
Ungathered, for the first time in my life ; 

From one great hope not for an hour thought strayed. 

v. 

Fair June, rose-laden, raised her blushing face, 

And crept up to my very window-sill, 
While I, who loved her so in years agone, 

Forgot to smile down on her there until 

VI. 

Fierce suns had kissed the color from her lips. 

And thus my year went by, the year I thought 
Would be my brightest. Now I have no wish 

To know what this New Year for me has brought. 



A LULLABY. 

i. 

Falls the snow, falls the snow, 

Softly at eventide, 
Just as the angels come and go, 

Silent and white when down beside 
Baby's bed they lean them low, 

Falls the snow, 'tis eventide. 

ii. 

Snowdrop mine, snowdrop mine, 
Falling asleep like the flowers, — 

Mine, mine, my baby, mine, — 

Safe while the chilly night lowers. 

Sleep till the smiles of the angels shine 
Into your eyes as the sun in the flowers'. 

(70 



SONG. 



i. 



Come, for the sun is going down, 

Evening without thee will be drear ; 
Sleepless, my eyes still watch for thee ; 

Can'st thou my lone heart's plaint not hear ? 
Dead in my bosom lie the flowers 

That you at parting gave to me ; 
They ne'er again, nor our dead hours, 

Can live but in our memory. 



ii. 



Could I but know, ere twilight fades, 
Whether thy heart were light or sad, 

Then, though so far away from thee, 
I could, like thee, be sad or glad. 

But darkness falls, I cannot see thee, 

(7^) 



SONG. 73 

Longing, I call on thee in vain, 
Not e'en to know, while night comes down, 

Whether we e'er shall meet again ; 
Oh ! when my life, like daylight, fades away, 

Must I, my Darling, call for thee in vain ? 



MY LOVERS. 

'• The loneliness of life 
Because I miss thee, Love ! " 



I. 



Next to the children in the green square, 

And their innocent laughter on the air, 
Is the loveliness of my neighbor's face, 
And her womanly, winsome, ineffable grace 

As she leans to list for her lover. 

ii. 

And next to all this is her Lover brave, 
Who cannot look stern, e'en his life to save, 

From the moment he rushes, that corner around, 
Till he reaches his Sweetheart's door with abound- 
When I miss her fair face from the window, 

(74) 



MY LOVERS. 75 

III. 

That Lover is no more afraid to show 

His great heart in his eyes, and to let the world know, 
Than a baby to turn to his Mother, and call 
Her dear names, and to kiss her : and this, after all, 

Is the very best kind of a Lover ! 



IV. 



I could tell you, exactly, the steps that he takes 
From the corner there ; how — meanwhile — he makes 

A nice calculation how long it will be. 

How he flings back his bonny brave head to see 
If she's watching for him at her casement ! 



v. 



When I see them together, an aching regret, 
Never envy — God knows — makes me Ions: to torsret. . . . 
Why ! They look as if nothing — no one — save Death — ■ 
Could dare now to part them. They blend like the breath 
Of my violets here, and my sweet mignonette. 



76 MY LOVERS. 

VI. 

Last night I was restless. 'Twas lonely up here 

In this room, solitary ... A voice brave and clear, 

In the moonlight was singing a tender love-song. 

'Twas the voice of this Lover. Oh ! how I did long 
" For the sound of a voice that is still." 

VII. 

They told me that little song died years ago — 
" A dead failure," they wrote me. A failure ? Ah, no. 
If it drew these two closer, then not all in vain 
Was it written, thank God, — and though late comes my 
gain, 
It means far more than money to me. 

VIII. 

Sometimes when I watch them I have a good cry. 

I long for the courage to say ere I die : 

" It was I, in my happy past, I wrote that song 
Which you sing with such meaning, that some nights I 
long 

To come in, for a moment. I've wished you both knew 

How, each night of my life — loveless — I pray for you." 



HER EXPIATION. 

" And lay the gift where nothing hindereth. 



E. B. B. 



The hungry years can never be forgotten, — 

Those' starved, long, lonely years apart from thee 

Who wert rav breath, mv life, mv onlv heaven. 
To-night, at last, I have crept back to see 

Where they have laid all that is left of me, — 
For I am buried here. 

In my despair, 
I lie upon thy grave. God cannot care 
That I at last have sought thee. I am Prayer 
Incarnate, else, O Love ! I would not dare 
Here at thy feet my weary head to rest, 
Nor lay this drenched, white lily on thy breast. 



(77) 



WASTE. 

To one he sent his strong man's heart laid bare, 
Quivering with hope and fear. A cruel hand 
Seemed pressing hard upon a hot, torn nerve. 
Unto another faithless, — to her, true — 
Nothing he kept, not even his fierce pride : 
Complete surrender of his heart and life. 

The second letter was indifferent — 
Save for an old-time name he knew she loved. 
He snatched a fading flower from his coat, 
And crushed its purple blood against the words, 
That she might know — for all his city life — 
He still recalled her love for violets. 

The one to whom he wrote with lashes wet — 
His pleading was so strong and passionate — 
Read, with fine scorn, his letter — flung it by, 

And, later, answered — in a mocking tone 

The other died. Upon her broken heart 

Was found a locket with his face inside, 
A tender name cut from a letter, and a violet. 

(78) 



A PRAYER. 

Teach me to sing when my heart is aching, 
When my flesh is wounded, then let me laugh ; 

Send me to comfort hearts that are breaking, 
Make me smile bravely when gall I quaff. 

Send me with faith to souls that doubt Thee, 
Earnestness, deep, to the careless heart ; 

Unto proud souls that have lived without Thee, 
Let me humility's grace impart. 

Let me awaken those that slumber, 
Teach them to watch with fidelity ; 

Place in my pathway thorns without number 
So I may lead but one soul unto Thee ! 

Let me be heedless of human praises, 
Let me be calm when dangers arise. 

Let me gaze coldly where Passion blazes, 
Let me walk chastely, with lowered eyes. 

(79) 



A PRAYER. 

Let me depart from my best and my dearest, 
If by my staying I cloud a white thought : 

Oft soul to the soul it loves best is nearest, 
When lives, divided, with pain are fraught ! 



COMPENSATION. 

" Let the 'world go by. Thou laoest me. n 

" He cannot see." A kind voice said it low. 
But, swiftly, one who led him closer leaned, 
As though with life itself she would have screened 
Her Lover's heart from e'en so light a blow. 

He cannot see. But oh ! he feels her hand, 
Charged with the love that fills her to the brim. 
Her touch is sight and warmth and voice to him 5 
And his glad heart that light that ne'er on land 
Nor yet upon the sea was ever seen — 
(It hides in happy lover-hearts I ween") — 

Is flooding now ! 



(81) 



IN MEDITATION. 

" Who hides a sin is like a hunter who 
Once warmed a frozen adder with his breath, 
And when he placed it next his heart it flew 
With poisoned fangs and stung that heart 
to death! 1 '' 

J. B. O'R. 

Between the pages of this ancient missal rare, 
A leaf was shut to mark a favorite passage there. 
That one small leaf the priceless page did all corrode 
As years rolled on, — 'twas left forgotten there : sad bode 
Of how one secret sin may eat the priceless soul, 
And then — eternal dole ! 



(82) 



THE " LOOKING-GLASSES." 

i. 

Three death-still pools in a lonely vale. 

Still ! and so deep, so runneth the tale — 

No man hath been able their depths to sound, 
No mortal in all the fair country around — 

God's secret are they, I ween. 

ii. 
And up on the hill, not far away, 
The dead are lying, still as they ; 

The dead — whose bodies are in the ground, 
Whose souls are in deeps we may not sound 

'Till the sea gives up her dead. 

in. 

The sun shines warm on the gravestones white 
This fair June morning. Look ! the light 
Lends to the black pools' surface a grace : 
Like a happy smile on a dead man's face, 

Whose soul may be lost forever ! 
Belgradk. 

(83) 



TO THEE. 
" My heart is lighted at thine eyes ! "' 

I. 

Thy face is as the face of one 

Expectant — ready — if the morrow 
Should summon thee henceforth to lie 
Within the arms of Sorrow. 

n. 

Thine eyes are listening when they're gray, 

Thou smilest — they are blue ; 
And lo ! they are forget-me-nots 

That are agleam with dew ! 

in. 

Thy voice ! It is as though thou wert 
Thy life's sole lover leaving — 

A harp, whose strings the west winds kiss, 
And leave, at twilight, grieving. 

(34) 



TO THEE. 85 



IV. 

A mouth so sweet and tremulous 
Mine eyes have never seen; 

A tender word from thee must be 
Sweeter than Music's voice, I ween. 



HER VOICE. 

" And can' st thou think, and bear 
To let thy music drop here unaware 
In folds of golden fulness at my door ? " 

E. B. B„ 

Soft as to earth the snowflakes' fall, 
Tender as names young mothers say ; 

Sweet as the secrets lovers recall ; 
Earnest as prayers the angels pray 
For souls astray. 

Mournful as winds that wail at night 

Around lone, ruined castle halls ; 
Sad as the voice when lips are white 
That vainly on its dear dead calls 
When twilight falls. 
Tearful as eyes just losing sight 

Of Love, estranged forever. 

(86) 



BEYOND REACH. 

M A woman poor or rich, 
Despised or honored, is a human soul : 
And what her soul is, — that, she is herself, 
Although she should be spit upon of 7?ien 
As is the pavement of the churches here, 
Still good enough to pray in." 

Aurora Leigh, 

You know naught of the beauteous opal colors 
Which Dawn and Sunset paint far on the summit 
Of white-crowned heights no mortal e'er shall scale ; 
You know not what the ocean may conceal 
Far down beyond the reach of any plummet. 
That woman whom you speak of with no mercy, 
'Whose spirit for your vision soars too high, 
In deeps of silence hides such charities, 
That God must fathom them — not you — not I. 



(87) 



AN INVALID. 

Hers was the saddest face I e'er had seen. 
Disease had gnawed her fair life to its core — 
Nor yet fierce Pain could win sweet Patience o'er. 
Just once I caught her radiant, rare smile : • 
A blush-rose blooming by a lone tomb door ! 



(m 



A MODERN PHILOSOPHER. 

" Far better in its place the lowliest bird 

Should sing aright to Him the lowliest song, 
Than that a Seraph strayed should take the word 
And sing His glory wrong ! " 

Jean Ingelow. 

He was a king to the adoring crowd 

That, wondering, hung upon his lightest word. 
With human adulation he grew proud, 

And cried aloud — e'en little children heard — 
11 There is no God, no Heaven, and no Hell ! " 

The eyes of innocent listeners opened wide. 
Scandal to them ! That was the swift death-knell 

Of his fine mind — its powers all misapplied. 
The words like wild-fire ran throughout the land : 

They never were recalled — it was too late. 
That maniac there who bites his keeper's hand, 

And glares upon us through the iron gate — 

Is he. 

(89) 



INDIAN SUMMER. 

We saw the happy robins build their nests, 
We watched the apple-blossoms bloom and fall, 
Together knelt and searched for violets ; 
Counted the petals of the marguerite, 
Kissed each a rose, then wore it on his heart 
Always together, each the other's world. 

Sweet Summer flung herself on Autumn's breast, 
Tired and flushed, her cheeks incarnadined, 
At thought of having all unrobed to stand 
Before a world, while Winter wove a shroud 
For her — who never could come back to us, 
For her — who brought such gifts to you and me. 

With tenderness we said good-by to her — 
Then heard the sweeping, equinoctial winds, 
Singing, three days and nights, her requiem. 

(9°) 



INDIAN SUMMER. 9 1 

O Love ! that wail was not for Summer, dead, 
But for us two who unclasped hands that night, 
Who said such bitter words ere we did part, 
That Summer, who remembered, left her grave, 
And showed her face, as perfect as of yore, 
Against the blackness of bleak Autumn's breast : 
Like golden, amber beads that glow against 
An ebon rosary in the hands of Death. 



QUATRAINS : 

After the Storm. 

All night a giant wind did rage with awful power. 

Morning uplifts her lustrous lamp. Lo, I discern 
A mighty, granite fortress with a shattered tower, 

And, nodding in the breeze, unharmed, a baby fern. 

Two Actors. 

He who evoked our heartfelt sympathy and sighs, 

The coppers from his benefactor's eyes did borrow. 
He who could laugh the tears from even Grief's own eyes, 
Scarce ever raised his own sad face from breast of 
Sorrow. 

Two Kings. 

The great king's jester said one word too much, 
The finite king his foolish head did sever. 

One who for years blasphemed an infinite King, 
Was doomed at last in hell to burn forever. 

(92) 



QUA TRAINS. 93 

Wisdom versus Weakness. 

" This scientist has roused the entire world 
Bv his discovery ! " Reading which, I smiled, 

Remembering how, a day or two before, 
He was confounded by his lisping child. 



THE SURFACE AND THE DEPTHS. 

Nestling in rocks, high on a rugged mountain, 
I found a tender fern, just half uncurled : 

A grave, stern face that I had thought forbidding; 
Flashed me the sunniest smile in all the world ! 



(94) 



" ONCE, AND ONLY ONCE, AND FOR ONE 

ONLY." 

Browning. 

With fervor they all cried : " We envy you 
The gift of making such a perfect song ! " 

It saddened him. His lonely heart did long 
For praise — not of the world — not of the few — 

Of onlv One. 



INSPIRATION. 

" Kings have commanded nations for a little time ; 
Artists command the ages.'' 

Balzac. 

A little child with eager, rosy face, 

Sprang forward, flower-laden, raised her head. 

Poised thus, a question in her lovely eyes, 
Sculpture an instant saw her ere she fled, 

And gave us — " Hope." 

(95) 



A MAN'S LAST CRY FROM THE VERGE. 

If we had parted that first night, 
Indifferent — light-hearted ; 

Had I but fled your presence bright 
That first time that I started, 

Then lingered so, 
Dreading to go ; 

Had not returned to try with you 

That last waltz, and to vie with you 
In Avar of words — 
Both had been saved ! 

If we had spared each other then ! 
We dared each other, you and I, 
Meeting as would have met two men, 
Each having sworn the other shall die 
For storied wrong 
Which each has long 

(96) 



A MAN'S LAST CRY FROM THE VERGE. 97 

Sworn to avenge for his dead sire — 
Sworn by his faith, though little ire 

Feels either, now they have met ! 

But parting now, Love ! Parting now. 

Never to know, yet wondering whether 
(E'en though each shall keep his vow), 
We two e'er shall stand together 
Ere we die, Love, 
You and I, Love, 
Bound bv a thousand tender ties — 
"Who have seen ourselves in each other y s eyes. 

Why — 'tis tragedy 

Xow to part. 
Yet would love perish 
Did we not cherish 

Honor and Loyalty. 
Now it will live — 
God will forgive. 

Pray for me, Love 1 



LE PRINTEMPS. 

Singing to leaning ferns, I hear a brook 
Way down in mossy reaches out of sight : 

I seem to catch the low laugh, not the look — - 
Of some fair nun behind her veil so white 

Hiding her face. 



(98") 



PLEADING. 

My friend — so loved, — estranged from me to-night, 
Estranged from me whose lonely heart is beating 

For God and thee alone, — come, bless my sight ! 
Over the hills and waves hear me entreating 

God's peace between us two ere dawns the light 
Of that immortal day whereon Christ came 

To heal all wounds. 

It is not that I miss so much the light 

E'en of thy blessed presence. Dear, my grief 
Springs from a deeper source : that thou should'st fight 

Temptation, woe, and doubt that kills belief, 
And disappointment's sorrows that do blight 
The hopes of heart and soul — 
When I could shield thee, 
In my arms enfold 

Thee, wounded, as of old. 
Come thou to me — 
Else call me unto thee ! 

(99) 



PRESCIENCE. 

i. 

Two angry lovers — loving still each other — 

Her cheeks aflame, white — e'en as death — his face. 

One keen-edged word has clashed against another 
'Till softly one departs. The time of grace 

Is past. Down on her knees she sobs : " Dear God ! Too 
late." 

ii. 
White sails are set. Soft summer winds are sighing. 

Light laughter clashes with the low farewell. 
A sea of lifted faces. He is trying 

Never to see one face he loves too well. 
Into her eyes, intense, her soul has leaped — too late. 

in. 

All days, all nights thereafter deepen sadness. 
Tired her fevered brain forever thinking 
Upon two broken lines. 

One night comes Madness. 
That hour a strong man sobs while he is sinking 

Into his deep-sea grave : " Dear God ! am I too late ? " 

(100) 



AT THE END OF EXILE. 

" I found happiness in wedding tJiy sufferings.'''' 

Of all the world, Beloved, to think thou art not here — ■ 
Now, I am dying. Not thine the fault, I know — Dear 
Heart. 
Take my last thought : all pain I've known for our love's 
sake, 
Was joy, whose like the whole wide world could not 
impart ! 



(101) 



HEART'S OWN. 

" Dear one, — whose name I name not lest some tongue 
Pronounce it roughly." — H. H. 



I. 
I know a singer : 

And when she stands before them all, 
Smiles, and then sings, — in her sweet thrall 
The great crowd sways. None there may say 
" She sings to me ! " One — far away — 
Vibrates to every thrilling tone, 
And she is his, and his alone. 



II. 

I know a painter : 

Around him crowd great beauties rare, 
With whom the World would ne'er compare 
His Love — the loveliest of them all. 
Her picture hangs not on his wall. 
Within his soul "tis veiled, and there 
Uncovered, only with a prayer. 

(102) 



HEART'S OWN. 103 

III. 

I know a poet : 

Out of his solitude and pain, 

Spring songs whose sweetness brings a rain 

Of tears from e'en the cold World's eyes. 

He knows but one Love 'neath the skies. 

And she, for long, sad years has lain — 

Within her grave. She feels the rain — 

That wild, sweet rain — her joy, her pain : 

Her Lover's tears. 



REPLETION. 

" Heaven bless thee. 
Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on." 

That face of thine, that face of thine, 
And all thy lovely self, Dear One, 
When first thy dear eyes answered mine 
Seemed perfect. " Oh ! what have I done," 
(I asked God humbly) " that to me 
Thou givest this human blessing rare ? " 
" My perfect flower ! " I breathed o'er thee, 
" God never fashioned flower more fair." 
Then, when between thy dear lips stole 
Thy voice in song — like lark's on wing — - 
I whispered to my happy soul : 
" It is as though a rose should sing ! " 



(104) 



RELINQUISHMENT. 

And yet because I love thee, I obtain 

From that same love this vindicating grace I 
To live on still in love, and yet in vain — 
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face. 

E. B. B. 

If but to have thee near me in a dream, 

Doth thrill me 'till Joy breaks the spell of Sleep, 

Doth so ineffably my spirit steep 
In deep delight, that waking pleasures seem 
As naught compared with that which is supreme : 

If I am satisfied the while I keep 

Just near thee in a dream, and, waking, weep ; 
Then to arise, and see thy face, I deem, 

Were happiness too great for me to bear. 

And so, 'twas kinder that thou wast not there. 

Dear ! If the dream proved true I would not care 
To ever leave thee ; nor could I say nay 
To thy pathetic pleading 'till the clay 
My soul were summoned hence, — Life flung away ! 

(«s) 



TOO LATE. 

i. 
What now are laurels to me, oh, ray lost Heart, — ■ 

Nay, never lost — only waiting somewhere, 
What do I care for the wreath on my brow, Love, 

Too late to lay it on thy waving hair. 

ii. 

Oh ! how we watched for the coming of Fame, Love, 
Always thy cheek laid to mine while we waited ; 

Always thy firm little hand warm in mine, Love, 
How, when she neared, thy sweet face grew elated 

in. 

Honors come late to thy Lover. Thy hero, 
Losing that guidance, no longer is brave; 

Stifled all yearnings for Fame's lonely heights, Love, 
This is my resting-place, this little grave. 

(106) 



GOOD-NIGHT. 

Good-night, dear heart, so far from mine 
Good-night, fair face, for which I pine, 
O'er thy life's way forever shine 
God's radiant stars. 

O golden head ! O fair, proud face ! 
Unmatched in all the world for grace, 
How far thou art from thine own place 
Upon my heart ! 

Though miles and miles do intervene, 
Thine eyes, Dear One, and mine atween, 
From Morn's birth till the death of E'en 
Mine watch for thee. 

Good-night, dear lips and tender eyes, 
Sweeter are none 'neath any skies, 
Angels watch o'er thee 'till the dear eyes 
Unclose in heaven. 

(107) 



io8 GOOD-XIGHT. 



Farewell, fond heart, so far away ; 
Oh ! for the power Thought owns, — to stay 
Near thee forever, by night, by day ; 
Sweetheart, good-night I 



THE ENT3. 



